Misty (34 page)

“There's one more thing,” Anya said. “I don't want to stay in this apartment you shared with her. We need our own place.”

“I'm not gonna argue that point. I have the day off Saturday. Do you want to start looking then?”

“No, I can't wait that long. Being in Misty's space gives me the creeps. I'll find us a place tomorrow. Is there any particular area that you prefer? Any amenities in the apartment that you simply must have?” Anya said, going from a serious expression to a big smile.

Brick thought about it and said, “Instead of an apartment, I'd prefer a house in the suburbs. Nothing elaborate. A cozy place with a big back yard for my boy. My divorce is up in the air right now because I haven't signed yet. Thomasina only allows me to see my son on her terms, but I plan on getting a lawyer to fight for my parental rights and get me joint custody in the divorce settlement.”

“That sounds fair to me. Don't put it off much longer, Brick. Hurry up and get a lawyer so we can move forward without any attachments to your ex-wife or her daughter.”

•  •  •

With so much on his mind, Brick couldn't get into the groove of working. It was finally ten o'clock, time for his morning break, and it hadn't come soon enough. He needed to make a call to Misty, to let her know she needed to find a new bodyguard, but it was too early in the morning to listen to her bitch about him quitting. The time could also be spent talking to a divorce lawyer, but he needed a strong cup of coffee before he'd be in the mood to deal with a shady, money-hungry attorney. Deciding to wait until lunchtime to make the calls, Brick left the work site and walked over to a food truck that served the best coffee and egg and sausage sandwiches in the area.

After placing his order, he absently pulled the
Philadelphia Daily News
from the rack in front of the food truck and stared at the
headlines in disbelief:
Heir to Stallings Fortune Killed In Lover's Spat.
Beneath the headline was a photo of Gavin that appeared to be about ten years old. The subheading mentioned a gay love triangle. Brick quickly read the article, determining that Gavin had interrupted a celebratory dinner at a posh restaurant, yelling that Randolph Bingham was his lover and soul mate and that he was willing to fight for the man he loved. A twenty-one-year-old California man, a psych patient who had walked away from a mental health facility three months ago, became incensed and beat Stallings over the head with a silver candelabra, bludgeoning him to death before stunned diners.

Forgetting about the coffee and food he'd ordered, Brick walked away from the truck as if in a daze. He leaned against a telephone pole, pulled out his phone, and called Misty.

“Have you heard the news?” he asked her.

“What news?” she responded in a sleepy voice. “I haven't gotten out of bed yet. I had an orgy in my room last night with some of my fans, and we partied until daybreak,” she said in a boastful tone designed to make Brick jealous.

“I don't care about your orgy. I called to tell you about your friend, Gavin.”

“What about him?” she said irritably.

“He got killed last night. Some psychotic white boy from Cali beat him over the head and splattered his brains in a public restaurant.”

“Whaaat? I saw that shit when I first met Gavin, but I didn't know who was gonna do the deed,” Misty said with excitement in her voice.

“Misty, your boy got murked and you act like you want to be congratulated for foreseeing his death. Why didn't you warn him?”

“I'm only one person, and I can't save the world. I can't change folks' destiny either,” she said somberly. Then her mood suddenly became upbeat. “Oh, by the way, I've been meaning to tell you, we have a trip coming up. We're going to Japan! Isn't that exciting? This time we're going to stay over and enjoy the nightlife and do some shopping. Can you get a few days off from your job? You must have some personal time you can use.”

Brick was stunned by Misty's lack of concern over Gavin. “No, I can't get any time off. In fact, I don't want to work for you anymore. You're gonna have to find yourself another bodyguard.”

“Brick! You can't leave me hanging. Who else is gonna look out for me the way you do?”

“I don't know, Misty, and to be honest, I don't give a fuck,” Brick growled and hung up on her.

T
he only thing Misty would miss about Gavin was the efficient manner in which he dealt with her clients. She'd been on the phone with Mr. Oshiro, the rich, Japanese bigshot, for ten minutes and she was ready to tear her hair out from having to listen to his bad English. Gavin had picked a hell of an inconvenient time to get himself murdered.

While Misty struggled through the conversation with Mr. Oshiro, Audrey, sensing that Misty was getting stressed, took it upon herself to massage Misty's scalp to relieve her tension.

Aggravated that Audrey's fingers were in her hair while she was conducting important business, Misty swatted the nurse's hands and shoved her away with her foot.

Instead of taking a hint and making herself useful in a less annoying way, Audrey approached Misty again, this time massaging and kissing the foot that Misty had kicked her with.

“Excuse me, Mr. Oshiro,” Misty said politely into the phone. She glared at Audrey, snatched her foot from the woman's grasp, and said through clenched teeth, “Can you keep your goddamn hands off me for a few minutes? Damn! Get out of here and go sit in the other room and watch TV until I call you.”

Audrey nodded contritely and left Misty's bedroom. “Get back here and close my door!” Misty yelled before returning to her important phone call.

When Misty inquired about flying in style, Mr. Oshiro assured her that she'd be traveling in his new Gulfstream V, a high-performance aircraft. The staff that would be at her beck and call included a chef, a masseuse, and a manicurist.

“Okay, I'm sold,” Misty said with titters of happy laughter. “Oh, one last thing, make sure you pay me in American money. I prefer bundles of one-hundred-dollar bills.”

After sealing the deal with Mr. Oshiro, Misty felt like celebrating. But with David at work at the hospital, the bellhop holding up his post in the lobby, and with Brick being obnoxious and stingy with the dick, Audrey was the only person available for Misty to share her moment with.

“Pour two glasses of wine, Audrey! We're gonna celebrate!” Misty yelled from the bedroom.

Audrey didn't ask what they were celebrating. Accustomed to doing whatever Misty ordered her to do, Audrey hustled to the kitchenette. The sound of clinking glassware announced that she was doing as she was told.

Her phone rang and Misty hoped Brick was calling to make up with her, to tell her that he wanted to go to Japan with her. It was a damn shame the way she couldn't let go of him. It wasn't exactly love that she felt; it was more like ownership. And his desire to want to cut ties with her felt like the worst kind of betrayal.

She glanced at the phone, and felt let down when she saw David's name on the screen.

“Hey,” she said dully.

“Misty, I'm in trouble,” David blurted in a frantic tone of voice.

“What kind of trouble?” she asked, though she didn't care. She had troubles of her own and couldn't be bothered with other people's problems. She sighed as she thought about Gavin no longer being
available to handle the business end of her operation. And with Brick acting like a temperamental asshole, she no longer had a bodyguard.

“What do you want me to do about your troubles?” she said in a gruff tone.

“Misty, your vision came true. I shot Neil.”

“Who's Neil?”

“My wife's coworker; the man she was having an affair with.”

“Why'd you shoot him? You got your wife back. You should have been satisfied with that.”

“Tamia was afraid you were going to take Caitlynn from her, and so she kidnapped my daughter and ran to Neil. They were on their way to the airport, trying to leave the state and I couldn't have that. I shot out two of his tires and then ran up on him and popped him in his temple. I would have shot Tamia, too, but my daughter was crying and clinging to her.”

“I told you not to buy a gun.”

“I didn't; I borrowed one.”

Misty groaned. “This is ridiculous. I wasn't actually going to take the child. I was only fucking with her, so she'd start treating you with more respect.”

“I thought you wanted to marry me and adopt my daughter?”

“Hell, no. I don't want any bratty kids.” Misty was thoroughly disgusted with David.

“What am I gonna do?” David asked miserably.

“Turn yourself in. What else can you do?”

“Can you help me get out of the country?” he asked desperately.

“That would make me an accessory. You're on your own, David. All I can say is good luck.”
And good riddance with your nutty, unstable self.

“Don't hang up!” he bellowed. “This is your fault! You ruined my life!”

“Fuck you!” Misty shouted and ended the call.

Audrey burst into the bedroom, carrying two glasses of red wine. “What are we celebrating?” she asked cheerfully.

“We're not celebrating anything. Get that fucking wine out of my face, you goofy, four-eyed bitch.”

Audrey scurried away and Misty slammed her bedroom door. The day couldn't get any worse. All her prophecies were coming true at the most inopportune time. It was a good thing she'd never touched the bellhop's palm. Not wanting to know his future, she'd avoided palm-to-palm contact with him.
At least I have one good dick left,
she thought, attempting to console herself.

Still, none of the men she'd been fucking with could take the place of Brick. Somehow she had to convince Brick to come back to her. Once she got him in her clutches again, she would literally drug him and lock him down with shackles until he got it through his thick skull that he belonged to her.

I
t was dusk by the time Anya and Brick arrived at the house on Orchard Lane in Rose Valley, Pennsylvania. Brick was still dressed in his work uniform. They stepped outside the car and observed the exterior of the home. “Isn't it beautiful?” Anya said. The secluded stone colonial home sat on two acres of land. “Your son will have lots of leg room to run around and play if we buy this house.”

“Wow!” Brick exclaimed, taken in by the stately elegance of the house. “I'm straight from the hood, and never imagined living anywhere as quiet and peaceful as this.”

“I'm sorry you can't see the inside until Saturday, but take my word, it's a gorgeous house. I was sold when the realtor showed me the kitchen! That kitchen is so amazing, it'll inspire me to step up my game in the cooking department.” Anya looked at Brick. “Do you like what you see?”

“Love it. My boy will thrive, having all this outdoor space to romp around in. With all these trees surrounding the place, I can build him a tree house. That's something I always wanted as a kid. Seemed like a cool getaway when the adult world was too much for me.”

“Maybe you can retreat to the tree house when you and I get into it,” Anya said jokingly.

“We never get into it, babe. There's never been drama between us. It's all love.”

“I know, Brick. And I feel so lucky to have you back in my life.”

“I feel the same,” he admitted.

“You should have seen the realtor's face when I told her we were willing to pay the three-hundred eighty-five-thousand-dollar asking price in cold cash. Dollar signs seemed to light up in her eyes and twirl around.” Anya laughed when she said this. “It's up to you, Brick. The house is vacant, and if you like what you see, we can move in real soon.”

“I don't have to see the inside. I trust your judgment, and if you love it, then so do I. Cancel the appointment Saturday. Tell the realtor we'll take it.”